Sweet As Sugar, Hard As Ice
by Oswin Jae
Summary: What if Hannibal and Alana... Had a daughter? After Hannibal fails to kidnap his newborn child from the hospital when it's time to flee the country, Alana doesn't feel like she can keep the child of a cannibalistic killer. So she gives the child up. Will adopts the baby, to keep her safe and to watch for signs of psychopathy. But the girl seems normal, and Will enjoys being a dad.
1. Chapter 1

I**'ll be upfront and honest with you. I don't know when or how often this story will be updated. As with all my previous stories, this is spur-of-moment. This is my first story that's not oneshots or drabbles.**

**Spoilers for the season two finale. Do we even need to warn for season two spoilers anymore? They're mixed in with my strange canon divergence. Fair warning: I'm completely messing with the timeline. And plenty of other stuff. In this Margot and Will never got pregnant. Hannibal doesn't gut Will when it all goes down at his house, he injures him in another way because I need Will able-bodied for this fic. Molly will not appear, neither will anything from Red Dragon.**

**I own nothing except my little OC.**

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Alana rubbed her stomach absently in Hannibal's waiting room. Her insides bubbled anxiously. She definitely hadn't wanted this, but now that it had happened, she felt indistinctly peaceful. She didn't know if the peace came from having a new, perfect life growing inside her, or her decision.

Abortion wasn't an option. She dealt with so many killers; innocent people were too often taken out of this world. She couldn't contribute.

She'd called ahead to let Hannibal know she was coming with something important to discuss. She gave up trying to put her words together beforehand halfway to his office.

It wouldn't be easy. Alana herself had felt she had no time for a child. Hannibal, nearly fifty, was, admittedly, a little old to begin raising a baby. Stressed as she was, Alana chuckled to herself at the mental imagine of Hannibal getting up at three in the morning to change a crying infant.

The door opened and Hannibal peered out, hair combed perfectly as always, and suit immaculate. Her smiled when he saw Alana.

"Hello. You sounded worried on the phone." His voice was calm and even as always, although a slight worry glinted in his eyes.

Alana felt some tension melt out of her shoulders simply from being in his presence. He opened the door wider for her and she entered the dimly light office.

She took a seat on the comfortable futon. Hannibal sat next to her, took her hand in his, and gently waited for her to speak on her own.

Alana wouldn't let herself get absorbed in the motion of Hannibal's thumb rubbing back and forth across the back of her hand. "Hannibal," she began, trying to force it out. Well. It would only be worse to drag it out. "I'm pregnant."

Hannibal's eyes glassed over. He wasn't seeing her. He was lost somewhere in his own inner workings.

"I know we didn't plan this, Hannibal," Alana continued. She'd started so she might as well keep going. "And this isn't the best time in either of our lives, but I'm going to keep the baby. I would like you to be involved-"

"Alana," Hannibal interrupted, catching her eyes. "This is... Wonderful," he said, face splitting into a toothy grin. "Ever since Abigail," he paused, composing himself, "I have toyed with the idea of raising a child of my own in my head." He leaned in to gently reassure her with a kiss. "Now, this could be a bit early, but would you like to talk baby names?"

* * *

Rain splattered gently across her face, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Alana couldn't tell if it was warm or cold. In fact, laying on the ground in front of Hannibal's house, Alana couldn't feel anything.

Hannibal. Abigail. Will. Jack. Windows. Bloody floors and missing bullets. Was anything she believed true? Had the fall hurt her baby?

Alana prayed her baby was okay as blue lights began flashing and a vague siren cry filled her ears.

* * *

Hannibal knew this was probably foolish, but the chances he would be caught were low. Bedelia was waiting for him at the airport and this shouldn't be long. It would be a while yet before his face was out and the manhunts were on. Even with this small detour he would out of the country in plenty of time.

He really did hope Alana wasn't dead. The world was better with her in it. However, Hannibal's true concern was for his child. He mentally berated himself for the poor planning. The baby was at 36 weeks, being born now would leave it with no lasting health problems. Hannibal predicted Alana would go into early labor if she'd survived.

Hannibal approached the front desk, making sure to pant like he'd been running. "What room is Alana Bloom in?" his voice sounded perfectly worried.

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**I though maybe if I ended it on a cliffhanger I'd be tempted to finish the next chapter quicker. Sorry this is so short, but I'm laying the foundation. We're getting into the fun stuff now.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! Thank you for coming! It means a lot. I own nothing. Really. Just my newborn OC. Thanks for the follows and favorites! It really shocked me, you made me have a huge happy!**

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Hannibal stood in the doorway, in shadow, not seen. Alana was awake, and despite her serious injuries, was sitting up, propped by many pillows. In her arms was a sleeping baby wrapped in a pink blanket. A few silent tears leaked out her eyes.

Hannibal smiled. The doctors shouldn't have left them unsupervised with the nature of the birth, but Hannibal couldn't complain. It made his job easier.

He glanced down both side of the hallway. Empty. He stepped into the room. Alana's head snapped up, instinctively she held the baby closer to her chest. Her swollen red eyes widened.

"Get away," she said. "Stay away from us."

Hannibal said nothing. He reached over and adjusted the painkillers hooked to her. Alana gasped, spine relaxing without permission.

A sob escaped her as Hannibal gently gathered the sleeping newborn in his arms. He straightened up, looking at the perfect innocent face.

"You can't do this, Hannibal," Alana gasped, eyes pleading with him.

"Except I can, Alana. I do wish this could've turned out differently. Do not worry. Our child will be raised lovingly and properly." Hannibal turned and left. Alana called weakly for help before the drugs pulled her under.

Hannibal hummed quietly to his daughter as he walked the deserted hall. "What shall I call you, hmm?" She curled her tiny fingers in sleep. "We never did decide on a name." He shrugged off his slightly damp jacket carefully as he came to a door leading outside. He then wrapped it around his baby before tucking her gently to his chest.

"Hannibal."

He stopped, hand on the door handle. "You shouldn't be up, Will. You lost a lot of blood." He turned.

Will stood pale and barefoot in a hospital gown stained in spots with his own blood. Both his wrists were heavily bandaged from where Hannibal had slit them open. Like Matthew Brown had slit Hannibal's at the pool.

"Don't do this, Hannibal." Will had dark grey circles under heavy eyes. "That baby doesn't deserve to live it's life on the run."

"I would be a better parent than Alana. She doesn't have the proper parental instincts."

Will took halting steps forward. Hannibal watched without much worry. Will was weak and tired from being bled. "Give her to me," said Will, arms reaching out.

A dozen armed officers stepped out of patient rooms that Hannibal had presumed to be empty as he passed. Red lights flashed in his eyes as twelve lasers leveled at his forehead.

Will managed a shaky smile. "We were at least somewhat prepared. Give her to me," he repeated, "and we'll let you go." Will held his pale hands up to show he meant no immediate harm.

Hannibal scoffed, holding his precious bundle tighter to his chest. "You already betrayed me once today, Will. Do you expect me to believe you again?"

Will shook his head, "Is it worth the chance of your daughter being injured?" A few more wobbly steps and he was within touching distance. Will tried not to remember what happened to him the last time he was this close to Hannibal.

Will truly believed, for a moment, Hannibal would go down in the fire and take his child with him before surrendering.

Hannibal lowered his head to whisper to the sleeping infant. He knew she wouldn't remember, but maybe something of his presence would remain with her until he could come back for her. "I will be back. Be a good girl until I return." He gentle kissed her on the temple before handing the bundle, jacket and all to Will. He had more hatred in his eyes than Will had ever witnessed from the ever-composed psychiatrist.

Will held the child protectively as he backpedaled quickly before passing her on to a steady nurse who whisked her away.

"Go," said Will. He motioned for the officers to lower their firearms. "We'll be right after you, but I'm keeping my word. Get out."

Without a word, Hannibal abandoned the hospital to hail a taxi in the rain. And if a few silent tears leaked from his eyes the rain hid them well.

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**I personally don't think the affection Hannibal showed was OOC. I'm sorry if you think otherwise but I need a steady stream of fluff to survive. **

**Special thanks to City Bookworm for your amazing review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, hello, hello. Happy reading! Sorry for how short it is, but I have a bunch of assignments I should be working on instead. So I'm just happy I finished something.**

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Two days later, Will walked hesitantly into Alana's room. He tried not to look at the casts poorly hidden under thick blankets. He had not seen her since the rainy night at Hannibal's house. She was awake, but she was definitely not okay. Will had heard through the nurses, who gossiped more than you might expect, that she was refusing to hold her baby. And would not name her.

Will didn't know what he was hoping to accomplish by visiting, maybe if he could see that she was healing, he'd be able to trust he could heal too.

She appeared to be healing physically, as was he, but psychologically was up in the air for both of them. Her eyes were swollen, red rimmed, bloodshot things that refused to lift to meet his. Will maneuvered the IV pole he dragged along out of the way and sat quietly in an uncomfortable purple chair by her bed.

"How's Abigail?" Alana asked hollowly.

Will shook his head. "Coma. Again. They don't expect her to come out of this one."

"Jack?"

"Awake and already yelling at the doctors to let him leave. I haven't seen him, but these halls are very acoustic."

"He was stabbed in the neck," said Alana, finally looking at him in disbelief. "He can't be shouting."

Will let out a small laugh. "Alright. Maybe I exaggerated. I have seen him once. He claims he's ready to go back to work."

"Does he know that... He was here?" she looked back at her hands clasped in her lap.

Will nodded. "I told him. He certainly tried to yell after that." Alana said nothing. "He thinks I made a mistake. I should've let them shoot him in the head and be done with it." Will studied the floor.

"I think you made a mistake, too," said Alana, catching his eye. "You should have put him down. He's the reason you, me, Jack, and Abigail are in here. We'll never be whole because of him and you let him go."

"I'll get him Alana. He will pay. Maybe it was a mistake to let him go, but he was holding _your_ daughter. I was trying to keep her safe. And I did. I got her back."

"I know why you're here, Will." Alana glared at him with puffy, sad eyes.

Will shook his head slightly and frowned. "No you don't. I don't know why I'm here. Maybe I just wanted a few minutes away from my chatty roommate." He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"You have a roommate?" asked Alana, ignoring his question. "Who?"

"Doctor Frederick Chilton," said Will slowly. "Unfortunately being shot in the face did not take away his ability to talk."

Alana managed something that might have been a laugh, but sounded shallow and fake.

"Why do you think I'm here, Alana?" he asked again.

Alana didn't flinch or try to hide her face as fresh hot tears overfilled her eyes. "I can't do it, Will. I can't be a mother. Let alone a single one."

Will said nothing. He sensed she wasn't done. He sat back quietly hoping Sigmund Freud's talking cure had some merit.

"I never wanted to be a mother. But suddenly, I just _was_. I thought I'd be able to do it, with... His help. But, Will, I hate myself because I can't look at my daughter. I've tried reasoning with myself. I know she's an innocent baby and has done nothing. But she's half Hannibal and I can't convince myself she's half me. I don't think I can do it, Will. She'd be better off with someone who could actually be a parent."

"I don't know what to tell you, Alana. If there's any doubt in your ability to be a good parent, then maybe it's best you give her up."

"I don't know, Will," she looked at him like he was a lighthouse and she was lost at sea. "I just don't know."

Will wasn't sure his lighthouse was even pointing at the shore. He shrugged. "It's not like you're going to be released any time soon," he said gesturing towards her many broken bones. "You have time to make a decision."

She nodded. "I still believe you made a mistake letting him go, but you might have helped me make a decision."

Will gave a tight lipped smile, stood, grabbed his IV pole, and left her.

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**Reviews make me write faster!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, I felt bad about how short and boring the last chapter was, so I went ahead and wrote another one! The baby's in this one. ;)**

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It was the better part of a week later that Will found himself looking through a glass wall at a small baby jerkily moving her chubby arms and legs. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

A nurse with a blonde bun and thin lips approached him. She followed his line of sight but already knew which of the few infants he was staring at.

"Her limbs seem really out of control, aren't they?" she said while smiling.

Will simply nodded and mumbled an affirmative. As antisocial as he was, being cooped up in this hospital was enough to drive even him to want some light conversation.

"By the time she's one month old she'll be more fluid and controlled. Do you know what a baby can do at one week old?"

Will glanced at her and shook his head.

"Well, she already knows, or should know, I guess I should say," she interrupted herself, disapproval coloring her voice, "that she can rely on her parents. Familiar voices help newborns adjust to the world outside the womb and let her know she's not alone. The more her parents talk to her the better. She may not understand the words, but she can understand the love. Unfortunately, the only familiar voices she hears are the ones of the nurses on shift."

Will frowned. It really wasn't fair. He knew infants developed differently, but he also new babies were happier and healthier and developed quicker when their mothers interacted with them, which Alana downright refused to do. He didn't know much one-on-one interaction she got with the nurses.

"I wish that woman would go ahead and give her up for adoption instead of just prolonging it. We can't even name her." She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "I think she's actually starting to believe her name is 'baby girl'."

"Her mother's been through a pretty rough time," he said, he felt the need to somewhat defend Alana.

The nurse sighed. "I know I shouldn't judge, and it really is amazing she and the baby are even alive, but this baby deserves some affection."

Will nodded. "I agree."

The nurse grabbed his wrist. "Would you mind holding her?"

Will started to shake his head. "I don't think I'd be very good for-"

"You just agreed with me that this baby is deprived of affection. Sooner or later she's going to suffer for it. Do you want that on your conscience?"

He saw now that she'd never just wanted to talk to him. Her plan the entire time was to get him to hold the baby. He mentally sighed in disappointment of himself.

She dragged him to the crib. The baby's eyes followed them excitedly. The nurse gently picked her up and passed her to Will, telling him to make sure to support the head and all that good stuff.

Will watched the baby as she watched him back intently. But she wasn't looking at his eyes. "Um, nurse? Shouldn't she be watching my eyes?" he asked worriedly. Afraid the nurse would bring up other signs of autism.

"Oh, no, that's fine," she said waving him off. "Most babies prefer to watch the eyebrows, or hairline, or mouth. Eyes come a bit later." She made sure the baby was swaddled comfortably in her soft pink blanket before leaving them alone in the nursery saying she'd be back in a few minutes.

Will begun pacing around the nursery, gently bouncing the baby when she started gurgling. "So you don't like eye contact, huh? I understand that." Will marveled at how incredibly tiny her fingernails were.

"I want you to know your mother isn't a terrible person. It may not seem like it, but she is trying to make the best decision for you."

She reached up like she wanted to touch his glasses. He cocked his head slightly so she could see them better.

"They can't even name you? Names are important things. Certain names have stigmas. You wouldn't want your lawyer to named Tiffany, would you?" _You wouldn't want your name to be Hannibal if you were a cannibal_, he thought.

She gurgled like she understood what he was talking about.

"Maybe I should call you Tiffany just to make your mother angry," he pretended to laugh at his own joke. "No, I wouldn't do that. You don't seem like a Tiffany to me." He was silent for a moment as he thought. "You know, a name might make you feel better. How about this, I give you a name, and we keep it between ourselves, okay? You won't tell the nurse, will you?"

She just stared up at him with big dark blue eyes.

"All right, all right." He paced in erratic circles around the nursery. "A name, a name. This is harder than I expected." He mentally ran through every name he could think of. He even checked the name tags on the cribs of the other two sleeping infants in the room to see if they inspired him, but to no avail.

"Something unique. Something not too common and overused." He noticed a few shelves in the corner, safely aware from the cribs. Books on baby development, bottles and folded blankets, there- _30,000 Baby Names For The Indecisive Parent_.

While keeper her steady in his arm, he used his free hand to flip threw the book.

"I'm looking for one that feels right. I'm sure you'll understand someday, some things just _fit_."

_Dacey_.

"Dacey?" he said aloud. "Dacey, Dacey, Dacey. Daaacey." He looked down at her. "Does that sound good to you?"

Dacey just reached for his glasses again.

"Well, it might be a little late, Dacey, but welcome to the world."


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm so sorry! But I'm back now! I'm an illustrator with like seven projects I should be working on (so so sorry!). But anyway, I'm back for now!**

**I'm sorry this is so short, but it's something! I may even update again later, but no promises.**

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Will walked into Jack's room. He bounced Dacey gently in his arms. It was days after the nurse had forced him to meet her, and despite every tingling instinct yelling at him to not get attached, a warm spark of pride burned through his chest every time those tiny fingers grappled for his glasses, or those lapis lazuli eyes met his.

"You haven't been separated from that thing for three days." Jack's voice was weak and shredded. He was pale and shaky, but the stark bandaging and tubing didn't detract from his booming presence. "Where's your IV pole?"

"The doctor's discharging me tomorrow," said Will. Under normal conditions he would've been out of this lemon pledge infested hospital days ago, but due to the circumstances of their admission they were all under careful suicide watch. A nurse had admitted earlier that his interest in Dacey (he still hadn't told anyone he'd named her) helped get him cleared faster.

Jack's eyes were trained on the pink bundle in Will's arms. "You don't look ready to go."

"Did you hear about Abigail?" Will abruptly changed the subject.

Jack's nod was nearly imperceptible. "Last night."

Will smiled waterily and glanced down at Dacey's sleeping face. "I guess it was too much to hope she'd make it threw having her throat cut a second time."

"What are you really doing with that?" Jack's eyes hardened.

"She's not a 'that', Jack. She's not Hannibal."

"Alana's going to give her up," Jack said emotionlessly.

"I know," said Will. He tightened his arms around the bundle. Dacey woke up, but she didn't cry. Her wide eyes took in the new room. "Frederick has been indulging the press lurking like wolves outside the doors."

"Has he told them about Hannibal the cannibal's spawn?" Jack asked. Will did his best to ignore the scorn weaving through his voice, knowing it wasn't directed at the infant.

Jack continued, "No matter what adoption agency she goes through, no matter how closed Alana tries to make the adoption, someone will track her down."

Will swallowed. "She'll be teased on the playground. She'll be turned down for jobs." And that was just barely scratching the surface. Will couldn't imagine the torment she'd go through because of her father.

"It's possible she can be kept from it. She can be protected," said Will.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "What are you going to do, Will?"

Will sighed. Saying it out loud would make it real. This irrational, foolish, spur-of-the-moment, possibly wonderful idea. Official. "I'm going to adopt her."

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**Thank you for the review and favorites and follows! Feel free to drop another one! I love them so!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sup. Twice in one day, huh? Don't you love me? I'm kidding just please don't kill me. After this chapter we should get into all the fluffy parental-Will moments I have planned. I haven't exactly decided what I want Hannibal's role to be in this fic yet, but he'll be around.**

**Allons-y!**

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"Are you sure about this?" Frederick Chilton asked. "You are hardly a good candidate for adoption," he told Will.

Will was getting severely tired of being asked this question. The only person who wasn't objecting to his decision was Alana. She'd even given the go ahead, saying she saw no problem with it. The doctor said she was suffering from postpartum depression, but they all knew it was just a cover for the real depression she was suffering.

"I have been given a thorough psychiatric evaluation while here," said Will. He didn't need to mention that the nurse who forced him to meet Dacey in the first place, her name was Sharley Stevenson he'd discovered, had helped pass him through.

Frederick's eye's rose mockingly. "And they found you stable enough to raise a child?"

Will shrugged. "They did what they did. Someone from Child Services is bringing over papers for me to sign now."

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," said Frederick with a look torn between excitement for his possible failure and hope that he would succeed. Will didn't know whether he meant raising a child, or dealing with Hannibal when he came back.

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"First name?" the Child Services woman asked.

A nurse, Sharley of course, had been required to sit through and witness all the signing and agreeing and lawyer jargon. Lastly, they were finishing up the birth certificate. Her biological parents (unfortunately both) were listed, along with the date, weight, and whatever they put on birth certificates anymore. The only blank space was the name.

"Dacey," said Will, "D-A-C-E-Y." Aforementioned baby squirmed in his arms, not satisfied with actually keeping the bright purple binky in her mouth.

"Middle name?"

Will blinked. He hadn't even thought of a middle name. He didn't need to now. "Abigail." She would be remembered.

"Last name?"

Now there were a lot of options for her last name. Will didn't even consider Lecter. Bloom? If Alana didn't want to be associated with her child she definitely wouldn't want her to have her last name. Even as his heart ached slightly for the baby girl at the thought, he couldn't ignore the small flame of pride he felt when he said, "Graham".

The hospital gave him a bag to carry all the papers in along with a couple books about child development and everything he would need to buy.

This was going to be more work than he realized.

"Is there a back door?" Will asked Sharley at the reception desk. He didn't particularly care if reporters took his picture, Freddie Lounds had dulled that sense long ago, but Dacey was off limits.

"Yes," said Sharley, beaming at the brand new relationship she took full credit for. "And a couple of the staff are waiting out in a blue van to take you home."

"Thank you," Will said awkwardly glancing at her brown eyes. He meant it. He turned to go when she stopped him.

"I have a couple other things for you." She ducked behind the reception desk and pulled out two duffle bags and a light green and pink baby carrier. "Hand me Dacey."

Will was reluctant to relinquish his hold on the sleeping infant, but he allowed Sharley to strap her safely in the baby carrier, pink blankie and all.

"What's in the duffle bags?"

"In this one," she patted the red one, "there's bottles, formula, and a couple sets of baby clothes. In this one," she poked the yellow one, "is diapers."

Will swallowed. He already felt like he was drowning in this. "Is this all I need?"

Worry flashed briefly in Sharley's eyes. "Oh no. I gave you a book with everything you need." She must've seen the stricken look on his face because she assured, "Don't worry, I know you can do this."

He was not so sure.

Will barely made it through all her smiling and eye contact. It sounded like he had enough to get through the rest of the day at least. He'd go shopping tomorrow.

Sharley carried the two duffles out the back entrance while he shouldered the bag of papers and clung tightly to the handle of the baby carrier.

After they were strapped safely in the blue unmarked hospital staff van, Sharley waved them off while they were secreted away from the 'paparazzi'.

Will knew nothing would be the same for him, but would that really be a bad thing?

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**If I haven't replied to your review yet, I promise, I will get to you! I appreciate you all; it means so much!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I promise I haven't forgotten this again. I've been SO busy. If you want me to tell you everything I have to do I can, but I doubt that would be any kind of interesting.**

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When Will got out of the van, which he'd discovered was a personal vehicle of the hospital worker and did not actually belong to the hospital, his ears were assaulted with a chorus of barks. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten them. He'd arranged for someone to feed and take them out of course, but this was the first time he'd realized they may be a problem.

He hauled all the bags to the porch before returning for Dacey. The van left.

Dacey was jerked awake by the harsh barking and began wailing at the top of her little lungs. The dogs barked louder, scratching at the inside of the door.

He wasn't even inside the house yet and everything was falling apart. Will made a quick decision and unbuckled Dacey from the carrier. He carefully lifted the crying infant, making sure to support he head, and held her tightly to his chest. Making sure to keep her high and out of the way, pink blanket trail and all, he opened the door to let the dogs out.

"No! Nooo! No jumping! Good boy, Winston. Stop! Stay! DOWN."

Excited as they were for Will's return, and the strange thing he was carrying, his pack finally settled down, most weaving around him to go about their business in the grass. He allowed others to sniff the edge of the dangling blanket before they calmed and scattered as well.

Dacey did not calm down. She continued crying in his ear. Will tried bouncing gently, making soothing sounds, even humming, all in vain.

He slipped inside his house, knowing the dogs wouldn't go far.

Dacey had been so calm at the hospital. Admittedly he hadn't been around her every second, but he'd never heard her cry like this.

"Please, please Dacey. Shhh, you're alright. I got you. You're fine. Shhhhh."

Some indecipherable amount of time later, Dacey finally stopped crying. Will breathed a sigh of relief as he carefully collapsed on his couch. Most of the dogs had wandered back inside. He whistled and the remaining two returned.

Winston cautiously inched forward to sniff at the suspiciously squirmy bundle in Will's arms.

Nerves sparking, he slowly leaned forward so Dacey could see Winston.

"Easy boy, she's just little."

Dacey's chubby cheeks still held the trails of drying tears, but her eyes were bright as she reached her tiny fingers for Winston's nose. Winston sniffed at the little pudgy hand then licked it.

Will tensed, preparing for the crying to begin again. Dacey's eyes widened as she watched Winston's fluffy tail swing back and forth, but no tears came.

Groaning, he leaned back while carefully settling Dacey on her stomach on his chest. He thought he'd seen parents do this on TV before. Dacey, a warm, comforting weight on his chest, and the quiet breathings of his pack lulled him into the ocean of sleep.

* * *

The crying jerked him awake. Will's hands automatically reached for the infant on his chest - who was thankfully still in place. At least there was no barking this time.

Will had a suspicion of what it could be. I quick sniff confirmed it. He cleaned Dacey up and fumbled through putting a new diaper on her like Sharley had taught him. But she still cried.

The dogs were awake and Will was certain Buster was actually giving him the evil eye.

"Hey, if you can figure out how to make her stop I'll feed you steak for a week."

Buster laid his head down.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart? Is that it? You're hungry after that big long nap? What time is it anyway..." 10:30 pm.

He fixed the formula and even tested the temperature on his forearm like Sharley said. Will grinned while balancing Dacey snugly in his arm, proud of himself for remembering everything. He touched the tip of the bottle to Dacey's mouth, a little unsure of what would happen, and she halted her crying to eagerly drink.

"There you go. Is that good?"

Will plopped them both back down on the couch.

"So, are you just gonna tell me when you're done or... Am I supposed to make sure you don't drink too much?"

Dacey said nothing.

Will sighed. 10:48. This was going to be a long night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sup. Yeah. So, I'm not dead. I've actually been doing a lot of thinking and planning for this story, but for when Dacey gets older. I just have so many more ideas for a late-teens Dacey than she's-not-even-old-enough-to-laugh-yet Dacey. But this story's still not abandoned! I remember!**

**I remember everything! MUAHAHAHA!**

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It felt to Will that it took a week to reach the morning. He rubbed his tired, bleary eyes. At least waking up every few hours kept the nightmares of blood and black away.

"I suppose I could thank you for that," he whispered to the sleeping baby.

He settled her into the baby carrier. The dogs were spread out dozing on the floor. Being constantly awoken by wails throughout the night had apparently exhausted them too. Will's paranoia led him to pile pillows all around the carrier so there was no way for it to be knocked over.

He hated letting Dacey out of his sight for a second, but he had to clean himself up. He couldn't go shopping with dry spit up on his un-tucked, wrinkled shirt and dog-fur sweatpants. He ran into the bathroom, took the quickest of showers, changed the light bandages on his wrists, and put on decently clean clothes.

Will entered the living room. "Oh good, you're still alive." Dacey was awake, her big blue eyes looking around the room as if taking it all in for the first time.

"Yeah, it's not the best of places," he said changing Dacey into a clean onesie. He'd buy more today. When would she start growing? _She's so small_. "But it's home. I hope you'll like it."

He set out food and water for the dogs. He would have to clean later. And pick a room to clean out and designate to Dacey. He'll have to buy a crib, won't he? Would he be a horrible dad if he bought a used one from a thrift shop or somewhere? He made good money being a teacher and working for the FBI, but he didn't exactly have that job anymore. He'd have to be thrifty.

"What am I going to need to go shopping? With a baby?" He looked at Dacey who was looking at Winston who sitting on the couch and sniffing awfully close to the baby. He clicked his tongue to get the dog's attention. "Watch it buddy."

Winston turned his head and gave Will a look that seemed to say _I got this, I'm good with kids_.

Dacey reached her little hand out; Winston touched his nose to her palm.

Will watched with bated breath.

Winston inched closer still and rested his nose on the baby's stomach. Dacey seemed too shocked and confused to move.

"Ok Winston, that's enough," he shooed the dog off the couch. "I'm glad you like the baby, but I think she needs a bit more time to get bigger and used to you."

Not wanting to have to feed a crying baby in the store he mixed and warmed some formula. Dacey drank a little before spitting the tip of the bottle out, full.

Finally ready to go to the store, Will lugged the bag of diapers and everything thing else he thought he could possibly need to his car. He started the car and Christmas music tumbled from the radio speakers. He shook his head. It was still two weeks to Thanksgiving. Will thought it should be illegal to start playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving.

Will sighed and let his head fall against the steering wheel. "You know what would be great, Graham?" He opened the car door. "If you take the baby with you."

He retrieved the baby and buckled her carrier into the back seat like the sticker on the sun visor instructed him. "Please don't tell anybody about that," he muttered guiltily.

He remembered hearing that classical music supposedly made babies smarter. He changed the radio station. But the light, swirling tones reminded him of Hannibal so he switched it back to Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree.

He pulled into a parking space close to the doors of the local Wal-Mart. The air was chilly so he pulled the blanket up to form a, hopefully warmer, pocket of air around Dacey.

Picking out a buggy inside the doors, he set the carrier in the buggy.

Dacey did not approve.

Little mewling cries rose up from the carrier and she jerkily waved her little arms.

"No no no, please don't cry Dacey, we just got here." He picked her up and bounced her gently. She quieted immediately.

"Oh, you just wanted out of the buggy?" He ran his fingers over the thin metal bars of the side. "I understand. I know what it's like to be caged."

Carrying her in one arm and pushing the buggy with the other he headed for the baby aisle. Never having need to go there before, it took him fifteen minutes to find the area, but he was still just as lost in the sea of brands and competitive prices.

"This is going to take forever Dacey."

He grabbed a few sets of baby clothes in various sizes and found the same brand of formula Sharley gave him, "When do you start eating baby food?", But from there he was lost. Teething toys? When will she need those? Are baby bouncers actually good for something or do parents get them so they don't have to hold their kids all the time?

Dacey's fingers played with one of the shiny black buttons on his shirt. She offered no asnwers.

"Can I help you with anything, sir?" A worker who reminded Will of the Verizon commercial girl asked.

"Please," said Will. He cleared his throat. "Well I just recently acquired this," he shifted Dacey to be better visible, "and beyond diapers, formula, and clothes, I don't have a clue what's necessary and what, uh, isn't."

She chuckled, "Yes, it can be very confusing. You are just adorable aren't you?" She leaned it close to Dacey and poked her belly. Dacey gave her an untrusting look and her hand fisted in Will's shirt.

Will too wished she'd back up out of their space.

"How old is she?"

"Two weeks."

"I'll help you get everything you need."

Which was quite a lot. She picked out better clothes; a hat, mittens, a turtleneck, socks, shirts, pants, a jacket, a pair a tiny sneakers she'd grow into soon, two pajama onesies; wet wipes; a car seat (because he was wrong and the carrier did not double as a car seat); burp cloths; a couple sippy cups; toys: a rattle, a ball that plays Twinkle Twinkle Little Star when it bounces, a purple stuffed octopus; and a 'wearable blanket' that Will thought was just a fleece sack with a zipper.

He thanked the girl, checked his hoard out, and left.

It took him ten minutes to figure out the car seat and strap Dacey in it. She waited patient and quiet.

He'd go crib shopping this weekend, it'd probably take him until then to clean out a room.

He stopped at a gas station about halfway back to his home. He saw he had to go in to pay. He glanced around the parking lot, which was abandoned except for him and another car, but still, he wasn't leaving the baby in the car. Even for two minutes.

He unbuckled her from the car seat and settled her against the side of his chest and walked in. He got in line behind two teenagers buying snacks.

There was a stack of newspapers propped up on the counter. His stomach dropped at the headline. "Oh crap," he whispered.

_DEVIL'S SPAWN: IS HANNIBAL THE CANNIBAL A FATHER?_

_written by: Freddie Lounds_

"May I help you, sir?" asked the tired-looking cashier.

"I doubt it, but you can check me out. I need gas and a newspaper."

* * *

Dacey was napping in the carrier. Will skimmed over the newspaper. There was a picture of the hospital and a picture of Hannibal Lecter, but not of Dacey. It wasn't even 'confirmed' that Hannibal had a child. It was just rumors and a sell-out nurse.

The phone started ringing. Normally he'd ignore it, but this time he ran to catch it before it could wake the baby.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Will? This is Bella Crawford."

"Hi, is something wrong with Jack?"

"Oh no, Jack is fine. He'll be home by Thanksgiving, which is actually why I called. We'd like to invite you to come over for Thanksgiving."

Suspicion bubbled up. "You mean me and Dacey?"

Bella chuckled. "Well I hope you won't leave the baby at home."

"How would Jack feel about Hannibal's _spawn_ in his house?" Will hated the taste of that word in his mouth. It was sour and unwarranted.

She sighed, which turned into a light coughing fit. Will wished he could do something for her, but there's not much comfort you can offer for lung cancer over the phone. She spoke again, "You saw the newspaper? They don't have anything concrete to report about. And don't worry about Jack. He's bitter he let himself get stabbed. He doesn't have anything against the baby."

"It's really... Nice of you to invite us Bella, but I don't think-"

"I expect to see you at twelve o'clock sharp on Thanksgiving. The only thing to have to bring is that baby." With that she hung up.

"Well Dacey," Will sat down the phone, "I guess we have plans on Thanksgiving."

* * *

**So anybody catch the last Doctor Who? Anyone prepared for the season finale? BECAUSE I'M DEFINITELY NOT.**

**I'm so, so sorry if I left anything out babies need. I help in the nursery at church occasionally, but beyond that I have zero experience with babies. I've been googling baby developement and apparently infants can do nothing at two weeks besides eat and cry. So poor, bored, tired Will.**

**So, see ya soon hopefully! *Runs and hides before you find the pitchforks***


	9. Chapter 9

A week later there was an arrogant-sounding knock rattling Will's screen door.

Will had Dacey resting in his left arm as he fed her with a bottle as he waded through the barking dogs to open the door. Cold air invaded along with the man with a cold smile.

"Dr. Frederick Chilton. To what do I owe this displeasure?" Will said shifting Dacey who was squirming uncomfortably and grasping at the bottle.

Chilton's smile was lacquered and fake. Will noticed he put makeup over his scar, but it was a poor job of hiding where the bullet had ripped through his cheek. "I came to make sure the baby was still alive. Couldn't be too careful since _you_ decided you wanted to be a dad."

"Officially, I am monitoring her psychological development, away from the scrutiny of _certain_ individuals who would be biased in their findings," Will recited the same thing he'd told Jack.

"And unofficially?"

"Why are you really here? Do you want information to sell to the newspapers? Would you sink as low as to tell Freddie Lounds?" Will was bitter and he doubted he'd get over it any time soon. If Lounds found out he had Hannibal's child at his house and came snooping around he wasn't sure she'd make it back to write about it. "Maybe snap a picture or two when I'm not looking?"

"Please," said Chilton sarcastically, "I gave them snippets of you, Alana, Jack, even Hannibal, but I said nothing about the baby. Do you think I want Hannibal assuming I have any knowledge of his child? He might actually kill me for real."

Chilton hovered closer to better view Dacey. Her big eyes followed him. Small tufts of light brown hair were flattened against the inside of Will's sleeve. "Three weeks?"

Will nodded, taking a step back.

"I still can't believe they let you have the baby. They obviously must not of known of your incarceration for being criminally insane."

Will closed his eyes, tired of hearing the same thing from different people. "I was framed, Frederick. I'm officially The Guy Who Didn't Kill Those People."

"And being raised by The Guy Who Didn't Kill Those People is better than being given up for adoption? Letting a nice couple who can't make their own babies have her?"

Will sighed. "We don't know the couple that would've gotten her, they might not've been nice, may have even been abusive. She may not have been adopted at all. She could've grown up lonely and cold until she turned eighteen and was kicked out to be even more alone. She's safe here."

"Until her real father comes back. You know he'll come back, and when he does-"

"As long as you're here, Frederick," Will sat down the bottle and picked up a paintbrush. He tossed it at Chilton who fumbled not to drop it. "You can help me paint her room."

* * *

Two hours later, Chilton had painted three walls a deep plum color and he and Will were arguing about the fourth wall.

"Why can't it just be the same color?" yelled Chilton. The sleeves of his expensive white shirt were rolled up to the elbows; his forearms were splattered with the purple paint. He even wore a smear across his forehead from a swipe of his hand.

"I saw it on HGTV once, apparently having three walls one color and the last wall different is a thing."

"You aren't even painting, you're holding me hostage!"

Will shrugged. "She's going through a phase. If I set her down she'll start crying." Dacey cooed as if in agreement.

"Yeah, sure. You manipulated me over here to work."

"How do you figure? You came here by your own curiosity. I'm sure Dacey will appreciate all your hard work. If you want to take a break from painting you can assemble the crib."

Chilton dropped the paintbrush. "That kid is going to be one vicious manipulator when she grows up. With the biology of Hannibal Lecter and Alana Bloom, and Will Graham for influence," he shook his head. "I feel bad for whoever gets in her way."

Will gave a tight-lipped smile. _Perhaps she will be the reckoning_.

* * *

**Sorry, if that was a bit OOC at the end, but I thought it was hilarious and had to write Will making Frederick paint the baby's room. **_**The sooner you finish, the sooner you can leave Frederick. **_**People will probably think twice before popping up unannounced at Will's now.**

**So yeah, unless I get inspired for something else, the next chapter will probably be Thanksgiving dinner with the Crawfords. Now doesn't that sound like fun?**

**If I haven't responded to your review yet, I haven't forgotten, and I will!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sup. Yeah, I'm still working on this fic. How are you? Have a nice weekend? Or a nice whatever you had when you read this. Like I've said before, I'm just exploding with ideas for when Dacey gets older so that makes it a little difficult to write when she's a baby, but we will get there together! WHO'S WITH ME? **

**If you are, please leave a review. That would be awesomely encouraging of you. *Wink***

* * *

Will felt overly conspicuous walking up to the Crawfords' handsome house with a baby on one hip, a bowl of stuffing in the other hand, and a diaper bag and carrier slung over his shoulder. The Thanksgiving morning air carried a chill. He'd made sure Dacey's blue-striped hat was pulled low to cover her ears before he had gotten out of the car.

Bella opened the door with a large smile before he could knock.

"Let me get that," she said and took the stuffing from him. "Aren't you just the cutest!" she cooed at Dacey.

Dacey lifted her head. She stared at Bella's face and stretched out her pudgy arms.

Will laughed. "I think she wants you to hold her. She's never done that with anyone else before."

Bella smiled hopefully. "Do you mind?"

Will shook his head. The wind tugged at his curls. "I've been holding this thing for a month; my arm's numb." They traded, stuffing for infant.

Bella entered the dining room with the baby, she was the picture of kindly grace and beauty despite her illness. Will thought it was a very nice room, with smooth dark blue walls, gleaming white tiled floor, soft overhead lighting, and a sturdy dark oak table. Jack sat in a chair looking pale and exhausted. His throat was still heavily bandaged. His chair was not a kitchen chair, more like a recliner, supportive and comfortable. Will felt a sense of surrealism at the frailty of his boss. Big, booming Jack Crawford was an alien concept compaired with the weakened version before the ex-profiler. Will sat opposite him.

Jack's eyes followed Bella. He gave a small, loving smile. "You shouldn't have done that Will. You'll never get her back now."

"One of my greatest regrets is not being able to have a child," said Bella. There was thick emotion cloying her tone, but she kept it even and controlled. This was something she'd thought about a lot and, more or less, had made her peace with. "I'd say I waited too late, but I don't know. I was a girl who lost a parent to lung cancer. I don't know that I could have put that on a child of mine." She bounced Dacey and let the little girl grab at her silver chain necklace.

Will watched Dacey. Her blue eyes were dark and bright, carrying a hint of the vibrant person she would surely grow to be. "I'm familiar with the concept of putting burdens on children."

Jack sighed. "I was stabbed in the neck. Bella's dying. You, Will, had your wrists slashed. And the baby... What I'm saying is we're all alive now. Let's be thankful for that. It is Thanksgiving, after all. Let's eat, not talk about the past, enjoy my wife's magnificent cooking and being alive."

Will nodded. "For however long it lasts."

"I'll go check on the turkey," said Bella. She plopped Dacey on Will's lap as she left.

"How are you doing with that?" asked Jack, eyeing the baby distrustfully. Like she was going to jump up and finish what Hannibal started.

"Could you define 'that', Jack?" Will knew exactly what he'd meant by 'that'. Dacey wasn't Hannibal's anymore. She was Will's. He was her dad. She was not Hannibal.

"The baby. What's her name?"

"Her name is Dacey. Dacey Graham," said Will in a straightforward tone that offered no apologies. "And I think it's going very well. I'm not sleeping, but I wasn't anyway. The dogs like her."

"Are they rough with her?"

Will shook his head. He shifted the baby to be more comfortable on his lap. "Not at all. Winston really loves her. If I leave her on the couch he'll sit next to her and keep her propped up so she doesn't fall over."

Dacey babbled and reached to touch the edge of the table. Will pulled her hat off and handed it to her. She stuck the edge of it in her mouth. He fluffed up the tiny tufts of brown hair fuzzing the top of her head. "She's about bald," he said.

"You're really good with her," said Jack quietly.

"You sound surprised."

"I am. But it's a good surprise. I would've imagined you'd treat her like a puppy."

Will grinned. "Would you like to hold her?"

"I don't know how-"

"It's a lot easier now," Will rounded the table. "You don't have to worry about supporting her head, she's been squirmy today though." He'd just settled her into Jack's arms when Bella asked him for help carrying food in from the kitchen.

They laid the table full of turkey, ham, stuffing, deviled eggs, mashed potatoes and a large bowl of gravy, and a steaming pie that made Will's mouth water just by looking at it's flaky crust. It was incredibly relaxing to know nothing you were eating was people.

Dacey stared at Jack's face. His neck ached at this angle and he tried to shift her to more comfortably keep an eye on her but she felt like she was losing her balance. Dacey grabbed a fistful of fabric near his shoulder and looked around for Will. Jack watched, terrified and helpless as the baby's face scrunched up in a whine.

"Will..."

Will was right there, so quick Jack almost hadn't seen him coming. "I've got her Jack." As soon as Will had her Dacey calmed.

Jack scowled at the baby's apparent dislike of him.

"This all looks amazing, Bella, you really shouldn't have. I didn't want to intrude," said Will as he settled the cooing baby into her carrier.

"Don't spoil the mood, Will," chided Bella, "it's delicate."

"A lot of food for three people."

"It's a holiday. You never know how many more you're going to get."

Will nodded his agreement. He didn't think he'd get this one. He was starving. He made sure Dacey always had enough, but his own eating habits had been put on the backburner. He piled his plate high with steaming turkey, juicy ham, enough mashed potatoes to form a mountain with a gravy-filled lake at the top.

"Hungry much, Will?" asked Jack. "You never were very good at taking care of yourself."

"The only thing I enjoyed about the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane was the food. It wasn't very good, but I got it three times a day, for sure." He could still see the fictitious ear on his tray. "And none of it was people."

Bella's food was as delicious as it was beautiful. It may not have been one of Hannibal's professionally presented dinner parties-

No, he wasn't thinking about him.

"How's Alana?" Will asked.

"Celebrating Thanksgiving in the hospital," Jack answered. "And she'll be there quite a while longer."

Will realized he had nothing else to talk about. That they'd be interested in at least. But Jack and Bella seemed content enough to eat in silence, so he was too.

The satisfying silence was periodically punctuated by light, meaningless conversation. The weather, recent news, etc. And nobody mentioned Hannibal Lecter or the lack of information on where he might be.

Dessert was a warm, perfectly textured apple pie. Will's favorite. A happy coincidence since he'd never told anyone that. Not even Hannibal.

He was especially thankful for that.

Will lifted Dacey onto his lap and let her taste a bit of the pie's thick liquid insides. Her eyes widened as she licked her tiny lips. They all laughed as she opened her mouth for more.

A short while later, after Will fed Dacey a bottle of milk, the baby was asleep in his arms and it was time for him to go back home. Bella packed up plenty of food for him to take (including most of the pie) and she said to call if they needed anything.

Will kind of liked being considered a 'they'.

He buckled the carrier safely in the back seat and adjusted her little hat.

Will smiled as he started the car. She was already noticing and responding to her name. He'd never thought he'd be a dad. This was probably the only chance he'd get. He hoped he'd do it right.

* * *

**Oh Will, you don't really think Hannibal won't be around do you? lol **

**Apple pie is amazing. That's all I have to say on the matter.**

**Review please? Tell me how you liked this chapter! Ok so let's get interactive, I need a name for an OC (villain) who will be appearing in the next few chapters. So, in a review, send me a first, middle, or last name. Or even a nickname. (Correction, I will definitely need a nickname. Like newspaper headline worthy nickname *Hint hint wink wink* bring out your inner Freddie Lounds) So hurry! If I get a lot of names I might not be able to use them all, but maybe I can find other places for them.**

**Let the bidding begin!**


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm sorry, I should've thought to specify that the OC villain is a man. My bad, I'll still try to find places for the female names! Thank you all so much!**

* * *

"Come on, you can do it, Dacey. You can do it!" cheered Will. The baby girl was laying on her stomach on the carpet in the living room in a bright yellow onesie. She had her small hands braced on either side of her, but she made no move to push herself up. Will was laying on his own stomach in front of her.

Will got into push up position. "Okay Dacey. You watching?" He waited until her big blue eyes were focused on him. "Like this." He did a quick push up, held himself for a second, then lowered back down in front of Dacey.

The two-month-old laughed at him but didn't push herself further. Her hair was coming in darker and she had grown some.

Will smiled at the laughing infant. "Okay, I'll do it one more time. Then I expect to see some results." He gently poked her chubby cheek. "You're going to have to work off that baby fat eventually."

Buster came over to sniff at her and she tried to grab at his nose.

The peaceful morning was interrupted by the phone. Will sighed and let his head hit the carpet. Nobody ever called him, and on the off-chance they did it was never anything good. "Keep an eye on her, boy," he said as he scrambled to get up.

"Hello?"

"Will."

Will nearly audibly groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was Jack. Now he knew for sure it wasn't anything good. "Yeah, Jack?" Maybe it was news about Hannibal. Had they caught him? Gotten a tip on his whereabouts?

He looked at Dacey as he walked over to the window. The baby's eyes followed him like she was following the conversation.

"I've got a dead body I need you to look at, Will. It's a bad one. We need to know if he's going to kill again."

It was Christmas Eve. A layer of thick, fluffy snow covered the cold ground outside. Jack was back to work already? Maybe he needed a distraction.

"I've got a kid to look after now, Jack." Will tried to keep his tone steady and unwaverable.

"And I've have a body." Will rolled his eyes at the overbearing attitude leaking from the phone. _Can you believe this?_ he mouthed at Dacey. "And I need you to look at it."

"I don't do that anymore." Will watched Dacey kick her feet happily while Buster sniffed around her side.

"So you're comfortable letting this guy go to find more victims?"

"I'm not the only profiler, Jack. You can find someone else to do this." Will couldn't risk getting deep into this again, not now that he had someone depending on him.

"You're the best. But if you can't be away from that baby for a second I'll make sure the next victims understand."

Will did audibly growl now. Jack wasn't going to leave him alone. And Will would feel the guilt if he didn't help catch him. "Where?"

* * *

Will walked with Dacey nestled against his chest up to the entrance of the address Jack had given him. The cold air stung his nose red. Despite the thick pajamas the little girl wore underneath the blanket she was wrapped in and her blue-striped hat, Will could tell she was uncomfortably cold by the way she kept her face turned into his shoulder.

It was a zoo. Will's imagination had no limits on what kind of crimes could be committed in a zoo.

Jack was standing by the gate, waiting. He'd told him nothing. Jimmy Price and Brian Zeller were talking and gesturing wildly nearby. Police cars with flashing lights and an ambulance littered the street along with ribbons of yellow 'do not cross' police tape.

"I can't believe you brought that," said Jack when Will reached the gate.

"Her _name_ is Dacey. I couldn't leave her home alone. And if you call her 'that' one more time I'm leaving and you're not guilting me into coming back," Will threatened.

Jack nodded but didn't apologize.

"Where's the body?"

"This way. You can't take a baby into a crime scene. Especially not her."

Will agreed, though he ignored the _especially not her_ part, but what could he do with her?

"Zeller!" shouted Jack. Brian jogged over, breath fogging.

"Yeah?"

"Can you watch her?" Jack pointed at the baby.

"Uh..." Brian looked caught off guard and stared at the baby. "Yeah, I guess."

"I don't know..." started Will.

"No, it's okay," said Brian, taking the baby and bouncing her lightly. "My sister has four kids. I've babysat hundreds of times." Dacey looked around at Will. If he didn't know better, he'd think she looked betrayed. She reached out her arms for Will.

"I'll be right back," he told her and patted her head. "Where's the body?" He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

"This way." Jack led him through the gates. Will was keenly aware of the empty space at his chest. "The victim's name is Timothy Cox. He works here during the summer. Thirty-three years old; no priors besides a few speeding tickets and one disorderly conduct."

"Cause of death?"

Jack raised his eyebrows and looked at Will. "Apparently, lion."

"You brought me to a zoo to investigate a murder by a lion? I think we found the culprit."

Jack ignored Will's sarcasm. "We don't need to find the lion. We need to find the person who tied Cox up and left him in the lion's habitat. Here we are."

Will looked over the railing to the wide lion habitat. A small mad-made moat separated it from the rails. There were large flat rocks for the lion to lounge on and a couple trees for shade. The body was lying on a small expanse of grass with patches of snow surrounded by a police photographer, a coroner, and a couple officers.

"Where's the lion?" asked Will.

"There are rooms at the back of the habitat, hidden from onlookers. That's where the _lions_ are. A male and a female."

"Which one killed him?"

"They were both pretty covered in blood when we got here. Come on," Jack led him around back so they could go into the habitat.

"Who found the body?" Will asked, stepping over rocks.

"Winter's the off season and the zoo's closed, but they still have to feed and take care of the animals. Anne Wilson was the worker in charge of this section."

"Is she a suspect?"

"No, she's clean. She's passed out in the ambulance out front. She threw up when she found the body and barely managed to call the police before having a panic attack."

They reached the body. It was a young man with brown hair spicked up in the front with either hair gel or blood and cold blue eyes frozen on the sky.

_Mangled_ is too kind a word. What was left of the victims face looked like it was screaming in pain. Will remembered that he'd heard lions will eat their prey while it's still alive. There was still rope tied tightly around his wrists and ankles. Most of the stomach and insides were missing, presumably in the lions' stomachs. The body was covered in wide, deep scratches and bites and thick dark liquid that pooled frozen on the ground, wait, something was weird about some of the blood.

"This isn't all blood, Jack."

Jack's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He'd been trying not to look at the body too closely.

Jimmy Price appeared at Will's shoulder. "Actually, it's barbecue sauce."

"What did this guy do to make someone tie him up," Jack sighed, like he couldn't believe he actually had to say this, "cover him in barbecue sauce, and feed him to lions?"

"Well," said one of the police officers, "we found this near the body," he held up a VHS tape.

"Did you dust it for fingerprints?" asked Jack.

He nodded. "Just a couple partials."

"Better than nothing to go on."

Jimmy said, "There are a couple shoeprints around the body. And since the victim is barefoot we can assume they're the killer's. They're not much to go on, but the size says it's most likely a man."

"Let's go see what's on the tape," said Will.

* * *

Will pulled his scarf away from his neck. It was hot in the security room. All the cameras pointed at the lion exhibit had been destroyed of course. They were almost ready to watch the tape. He hoped Dacey was okay, that she was warm enough.

"I'm playing it," said the security guard.

It wasn't a security camera tape, it was jumpier, like a handheld. The bottom of the screen read '2:37 July 22'. They could recognize the victim, Timothy Cox, leaning over the railing of the lion exhibit. It was summer and he was wearing his green zoo uniform, along with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He obviously didn't realize he was being watched.

Cox looked around, evidently seeing if anyone was looking, but he didn't see this camera. He pulled a rock about the size of his hand out of the messenger bag and hurled it at one of the lions. He laughed when the lion jumped as it hit him in the leg. The video went for just a couple of minutes of this guy throwing rocks at the lions before the screen abruptly went black.

"Wow," said the security guard, "I never would've expected that from Tim."

"Did you know him well?" asked Jack.

"Apparently not."

"Was there ever any security footage of rocks being throw at the lions? Or any other animals?" Will asked.

"No, but Tim had access in here, he could've wiped it."

Jack told the security guard to get him a list of everyone who worked at the zoo the same time Cox did.

"What do you think Will?" Jack asked as they were leaving.

"The killer thought he was doing the lions justice. This man hurt them; he wanted to give the lions a chance to hurt him back."

"So does he think he's a vigilante? Or an extreme animal rights activist?"

"He definitely doesn't think he should be blamed. That's why he left the tape, to explain himself. He obviously has temper issues, but he's patient and covers his tracks." _Sound familiar?_

"Do you think works here? Will he do this again?"

"I'd assume he works here. He saw Cox enough times to know what he was going to do, that's why he was videoing him. Whether he'll do it again depends on if he sees anyone else being cruel to an animal." Out of the zoo gate Will immediately asked where Dacey and Brian were. He was pointed to a police car.

Will opened the driver side door. Brian looked a little bit surprised at Will's sudden appearance. "Hey Will. It was cold so I thought we'd sit in here with the heat turned on." Dacey was resting on his chest, face turned towards Will, fast asleep. Her thin hair was sticking up from where her hat had been removed. Brian got out of the car gently, careful not to wake her.

Will nodded. "Thank you. For watching her."

"No problem. Is she yours? I didn't know you had a kid."

Will shrugged. "Um, well..." He noticed a cloud of dark red curls hidden behind a camera lurking by the police tape. Taking pictures of him and Dacey. "Lounds."

Brian turned to look. "Why's she taking pictures of you?"

Will turned his back to keep Dacey from view. Jack's booming voice was easy to hear over the light snowfall. "Lounds! Confiscate her camera!"

"I have to go," Will said and left.

* * *

Will stared out the window overlooking the snow covered ground outside from the couch. Dacey was sitting on his lap squeezing and chewing on stuffed bear he'd gotten her for Christmas. The meager lights he'd strung on the front of the house painted the snow red, green, and blue. The same colors as the lights on the small tree he'd decorated in the corner.

He'd never decorated for Christmas before, but it seemed like a very fatherly thing to do. And it was Dacey's first Christmas.

The ruins of shiny wrapping paper littered the floor from where he'd helped Dacey open presents. Jack and Bella (mostly Bella) had given her a few books for Will to read. Along with the bear Will had given her a large plush giraffe that was shaped to help her sit up, a new pacifier, and clothes because she was _already_ outgrowing what she had. Alana had even sent a nice purple baby hoodie. At least the tag had Alana's name on it.

Will pulled out his phone to flip through the pictures he'd taken of the laughing baby and the dogs (he'd bought a new toy for all of them too).

All in all, ignoring the man mauled by a lion, it was probably the best Christmas Eve he'd ever had.

There was a knock at the door. Will looked at the clock. It was half past eight and pitch black outside aside from the lights on the roof.

Will laid Dacey on the couch and went to answer the door. No one was there.

But there was a cardboard box resting on the porch. Will looked around, but saw nothing except black and snow. The box was taped shut and his address was scrawled across the top. There was no return address.

Will pulled out his pocket knife, suspicious, and flipped it open. He wasn't taking the box inside until he knew what was inside it. He looked back inside through the door he'd left cracked open. The baby was happily playing with her feet.

He sliced through the tape and pulled back the top flaps.

A perfectly wrapped present sat inside. The wrapping paper looked like a painting of linked elegant flowers and an obnoxiously large red bow was stuck on top. Will opened this too, careful to rip as little of the paper as possible.

It was a pillow, a beautiful dark blue and silver satin pillow shaped like the Eiffel Tower. A note rested on top. In flamboyantly elegant script it read:

"_For my precious daughter. Merry Christmas._"

* * *

**Yes. It's from **_**You Know Who**_**. He hasn't forgotten what's been taken from him.**

**Wow, that sounded sinister. Is Hannibal in France? The U.S.? Well let me ask you this, what company delivers packages at 8:30 PM on Christmas Eve? That's right. He got Santa to help.**

**So if you loved it let me know! Good day!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey. Look at this. I did something today. Yaaaaay! I hope you enjoy the thing I did!**

* * *

He was a short, middle-aged man with an overly inflated sense of self importance. The shortness and middle-age were easy enough to see, but a few things about his manner gave away how much better than most he thought he was.

The first had to do with the bluetooth he wore on his ear. This wasn't what indicated his bloated self image, it was the way he spoke so loud, practically shouting his side of the conversation, so that everyone else trudging along the icy sidewalk had to hear it. Another thing was the exaggerated 'Watch it!' he shouted when accidentally bumped into.

But neither of those mattered to the man watching him. What did matter, however, was when he occasionally aimed to kick a pigeon or two into the road and out of the way. Like they were soccer balls.

That mattered very much.

* * *

It was still snowing. Will assumed five or six inches had accumulated outside by now, and the thick, fluffy particles showed no signs of stopping. The yard was perfectly smooth, pure whiteness. Not a single blade of grass poked through the top.

Time to ruin it.

He flung the door open and the dogs rushed out. They pranced around, carving paths through the perfect white field and throwing up waves of snow like smoke screens. The calm ambiance of the morning was ruined in a moment.

Will bundled himself and Dacey in several layers before stepping outside.

Dacey's eyes were wide and dark blue as she watched the fat snow fall, contrasting with the subtle powdery blue sky. Her little mouth was parted in pure amazement. A laugh tumbled out of her as she watched the dogs chase each other. Will couldn't hold in his own wide smile.

It had snowed all night long. It had been too dark to see when he was on the porch last night, but if Hannibal had left any footprints they were long covered by now. Had he stayed long? Watched long? Had he seen Dacey? Will was a fool to leave the curtains on the windows open. Of course, he'd also thought Hannibal would've been long out of the country by now. Maybe he was now and had just waited to leave one more snarky message for Will.

He pushed the thoughts of Hannibal clear out of his mind as he crouched down to let Dacey touch the snow with her tiny hand. She grabbed a fistful of the soft ice. She squealed in that way babies do that could be from pure joy or terror. But she reached out to touch more.

Will stood up and took her hand in his to warm it. "You don't want to touch it for too long, you see? Just like we don't want to stay out here long. Bad things happen if you get too cold." He gave her a bounce to capture the giggling baby's attention. "Are you listening? This is important stuff."

He whistled for the dogs to come back to the house. A few of the smaller ones, like Buster, who were closer to the ground, were already sitting on the porch shivering and ready to go back into the warmth.

Will turned and gave the horizon and treeline one last suspicious cast, but the only familiar silhouettes he saw were the trees.

* * *

Will was sitting on his couch, steaming coffee mug in hand and sleepy baby next to him propped against an Eiffel Tower pillow. It was only eleven AM. He'd debated within himself for a good half hour about whether he should give Dacey the pillow from Hannibal or not. He didn't want anything from Hannibal in his house, but then he felt fairly terrible for thinking that when he remembered Dacey already broke that rule. When it came down to it, it was a very nice pillow and Dacey never had to know who it came from.

The phone started ringing. Will sipped his coffee and let it ring. At least it didn't set Dacey off crying again like the telemarketer had at six AM that morning. If it was important they'd call again.

They called again.

He pushed himself up off the couch with a grunt. Dacey watched him go answer the phone.

"Hello Jack."

"I thought you didn't have caller ID on your home phone?"

"No one calls me besides you and telemarketers."

"Our animal rights activist has struck again."

Will wasn't surprised. He thought about telling Jack about Hannibal's visit. But as he watched Dacey try to fit her chubby foot in her mouth the words wouldn't form in his mouth.

Instead he said, "And you need me to come look at the body."

"Right away."

"The roads are probably terrible."

"They are, but the body's in the middle of a sidewalk. We need you to come so we can move it."

Will sighed but he wasn't going to argue. "Where?"

* * *

The sidewalk was taped off and blocked. Before getting out of his car Will looked around for Freddie Lounds but didn't see the red-haired witch. The pictures she'd taken of him and Dacey at the last crime scene hadn't popped up anywhere yet, but he worried she was just waiting to do the most damage with them.

Jack was wearing his yellow winter coat and black fedora with a thick scarf knotted carefully around his still-bandaged neck. He waited just inside the police tape with Brian Zeller. Without a word Will passed him the baby. She went easily this time. Will relaxed as he watched Brian carry her over to wait in the warmth of a police car.

"I think he actually likes babysitting her," said Jack neutrally.

Will missed her already so he didn't say anything.

The victim was dumped in front of a small evening coffee shop. It hadn't opened yet but a few employees moved around inside, getting ready for business and stealing glances out of the windows. Will tried to ignore them.

"Victim's name is Austen Walpher. This isn't a very busy part of town, most places open late. Especially on a snowy," Jack sighed, "_Christmas_ day like this. The coffee shop doesn't even open until two. The owner arrives a few hours early everyday. He called the murder in. No one's reported seeing anything suspicious in the area. This one isn't nearly as gruesome as the lion attack," said Jack, "but it's certainly more... Flamboyant."

Will's brows scrunched in confusion. He'd thought the body covered in barbecue sauce was pretty flamboyant himself.

Jimmy Price was waiting for them by the body, ready to tell them all he so far knew.

"He's getting a tad artistic. The cause of death is a single gunshot wound to the forehead. It was at close range, hence the powder burns on his skin and the missing back half of his skull, but he wasn't shot here."

That was obvious enough, the ground was relatively free of blood. This was fairly run-of-the-mill stuff. The unique part was the feathers. Dozens upon dozens of obnoxiously bright fake feathers in reds, yellows, greens, and purples were shoved into his mouth and down his throat, shoved up his sleeves and into his shoes. They tumbled out into the slushy, muddy snow on the sidewalk.

"I'm guessing," said Will, "that he did something to a bird."

"Bingo." Jimmy held up a picture. "We found this resting on top of the body." It showed the victim with his leg pulled back to kick a pigeon.

"Thoughts Will?" asked Jack.

"This is definitely the same guy. He holds a grudge. He takes the time to plan the murder and print out a picture, especially since he took this victim somewhere else to kill him. To avoid a mess, presumably. And he leaves something to explain himself. The murders are posed like poetic justice."

"Nothing new you can tell us?"

"I can tell you he's not going to stop until someone makes him stop. He feels this is his responsibility. His job. Did you get the list of people who worked at the zoo the same time Timothy Cox did?"

Jack nodded. "It's a long list."

Will paced around the body looking for any other clues to the identity of the killer.

"We do have a few partial fingerprints," said Jimmy, "but it'd still take a long time to possibly narrow it down."

Will spotted something roundish and brown poking out from under a couple of the artificial feathers. He kicked them out of the way. It was a cigarette butt.

"Does our victim smoke?"

They both looked at him questioningly. Jimmy said, "We didn't find any cigarettes on the body. His fingernails don't look yellow." Will pointed at the discarded butt. Jimmy picked it up with gloved fingers and dropped it into an evidence bag.

Jack nodded approvingly. "We'll see how many zoo employees smoked. That'll help narrow it down further."

"I can even tell you what brand of cigarettes he smokes," said Jimmy.

"If that's all you need me for, Jack," said Will.

Jack nodded. "We have a good lead to work on. Go get your kid."

When Will got to the ambulance to pick up Dacey Brian asked him if he'd seen the paper. Will immediately felt his stomach drop before Brain assured him it wasn't anything by Freddie. "I just think it's kind of cool what they're calling him," he said, handing him a copy of the newspaper. _The Lion Tamer_ they called him in the headline.

"I hope it doesn't encourage him," said Will. He hoisted Dacey onto his hip. "Can you wave bye to Brian?" She reached a hand up and yanked on Will's hair. He grimanced, ignoring Brian's cackling, and pulled his curls from her grasp. "Okay we'll work on that."

* * *

He was an odd guy, the one they brought in to look at his latest display. He didn't look like a cop. He'd watched him through the coffee shop window. Maybe it hadn't been the smartest idea to leave it outside his new workplace, but he wanted to see them, the ones admiring his work. The cops, of all people, should understand justice when they see it.

But then he found the cigarette. Oh, he could've punched himself for leaving that there. It was a careless mistake. He was better than that. What else had that man noticed that could lead them to him? He was trying to prevent him from doing his duty of ridding the world of scum. He was going to have to get him out of the way.

And then he saw the man crossing the street with a baby in his arms. He had an idea.

* * *

The house was dark and silent. Will Graham lay sleeping in his bed, Dacey was fast asleep tucked into his side. They'd both fallen asleep as Will read a story.

A warning was left on his front porch for him to find in the morning.

* * *

**Did you have a feeling? Did yoooou? Tell me about it in a review! I'll cherish it forevah**!


	13. Chapter 13

**So. I'm still not dead. Let's celebrate! Yay! I know it's been a while (Again.), but this is the longest chapter so far! That's something to celebrate! Thank you so so so so much everyone for all the favs and follows and reviews! They warm my heart. I hope you enjoy this chapter! And remember, I still don't own anything.**

* * *

The Lion Tamer searched the internet for information regarding the man he'd learned was William Graham. He shuffled through the web pages of various newspapers for any knowledge useful to him.

* * *

The sun leaked in through his eyelids orange-red, forcing him to surface into consciousness. His shirt felt stretched tight across his chest. He opened his eyes and looked over to see Dacey, with her two hands full of his pale blue shirt, as the source of the tugging. She stared at him with wide eyes as if she'd been waiting for him to wake up.

"Good morning, Dace." The clock read 8:42 AM. "You decided to let me sleep in, huh? How kind of you." She lifted her head and jerked on his shirt. Will sniffed. "Woo. You need a diaper change, don't you?"

He changed her, warmed her up a bottle of milk, and held her on his hip as he splashed water on his face in the bathroom. He'd slept really well. Again. And, for possibly only the second time, Dacey hadn't cried all night. He could definitely get used to this.

Dacey started babbling nonsense, clutching her stuffed octopus, as Will carried her around the house gathering the dogs to let them outside. "Yes. I agree." He didn't understand the point of 'baby talk'. She wouldn't talk like that when she grew up, so why talk to her like she would?

He let them out, but they didn't go rushing around the yard like usual.

They sniffed around a ratty box left in the middle of the porch.

Will immediately sensed this wasn't from Hannibal. It was a medium sized blackish gray box with a lid. The corners were scraped and blunt and a few mystery patches stained the bottom. Hannibal would never leave something as messy as this.

He shooed the dogs off into the yard. He returned inside to settle Dacey on the couch and turn the TV on to some Disney movie. Winston ran back inside and sat on the floor next to the couch.

"Thanks buddy." Will scratched behind his ears before he went back outside.

Whatever was in this box was probably really not good. He put on thick leather gloves before touching it. Just in case.

He carefully lifted one corner of the lid, and when nothing happened he took the lid completely off.

He felt like he was in a bad joke, except it certainly wasn't. There were three smaller, longish, boxes inside. He picked up the one on the left and opened it. It was split into two compartments. In one was what appeared to be some clippings of short brown hair, in the other was a bit of thick, dark liquid. A sniff revealed it to be barbecue sauce. Will scrunched his nose in confusion.

The box in the middle had more hair and a bright red feather. Will knew where this was going. There had been another victim. The 'Lion Tamer' was letting him know personally. Before Jack even.

Why? What catch could there possibly be?

The third box had a single lock of curly dark brown hair and a tiny vial of liquid. He poisoned the last one?

So, for a change, he called Jack. "There's been another victim."

* * *

Will drove to the BAU with the box in the front seat and Dacey in the back. The drive was long and heavy with the knowledge that he possibly had everything he needed to finish this case.

He held Dacey, standing in Jack's spacious and impersonal office, while Brian and Jimmy analyzed everything in the box.

"No one has called in another murder like these," said Jack.

"Then they haven't found the body yet," responded Will.

"But why would he tell you? Why risk being caught by coming to your house with all the evidence one could possibly need if he was caught?"

Will shrugged. "Maybe he's ready to start taking credit. Maybe he saw me in a newspaper." He really hadn't been paying attention to the papers and had no idea if he was in them or not. Or what they could be saying about him.

"Maybe," but Jack didn't sound convinced. He leaned back in his desk chair. He stared at Dacey. She was chewing on the head of her octopus. "Did you notice any footprints in the snow?"

Will shook his head, staring at the way the lights streaked the glass doors to his office. He paced. "I'd shoveled a path to the door. Have you narrowed down the list to any suspects?"

Jack's whole face kind of smoothed and brightened. "Yes, we have one very promising suspect actually. Your box distracted me. We were planning on interviewing him this evening."

"Who is it?"

"His name is Matthew Lehnsherr. He was an employee of the zoo until two months ago, is known to smoke the same brand of cigarettes you found at the last body, and he even quit the zoo because he had issues with other employees, namely, Timothy Cox."

Will nodded. "That's still all a bit circumstantial."

Jack raised a finger. "It's enough for a warrant, not including the fact that his current place of employment is the coffee shop we found the second body in front of."

"That would cover the desire of most killers to return to the scene of the crime, but without being overly suspicious."

Jimmy Price and Brian Zeller entered the office with the box and the results of everything they tested.

As they set it on the desk Jack watched Dacey drop her toy. Will crouched down and leaned forward so she could pick it up herself instead of picking it up for her. Maybe he wasn't totally blowing this, he thought.

"Alright," said Jimmy, "about the first small box, that is definitely barbecue sauce so it will be no surprise to you that the hair is a perfect match for Timothy Cox."

"The hair in the second box," picked up Brian, "is from Austen Walpher, the second victim."

"Could you identify the third victim?" asked Will.

They both looked at Will. "Yes," they said.

"Well?" he asked, shifting Dacey to his other hip. "Who is it?"

Brian cleared his throat. "Uh, it's you. The hair is a perfect match for you."

Will shook his head; he subconsciously held Dacey closer. "That's not possible."

"You certainly don't look like you ever get a haircut," said Jimmy, "but we worked up a theory before we came over here. Wouldn't you have gotten a haircut while you were imprisoned?"

It was blunt, but Will wasn't really offended anymore. "I was forced to have a couple."

Brian said, "It's entirely possible whoever cut your hair could have saved it to sell online for some extra money. You'd be surprised how well stuff like this sells."

"It still seems like a stretch," said Jack sternly.

"It does," Jimmy agreed. "That's why we looked it up on Ebay. There are four more available if you want a souvenir of your own. They have express shipping if you're in desperate need of killer hair."

Jack ignored him. "What is in the vial?"

"Pentobarbital," said Brian. "It's a drug used by vets to euthanize animals."

"At least it wouldn't be painful," Jimmy shrugged.

"Is it a warning for me to back off the case, or a statement that he _will_ kill me?" asked Will.

"We aren't going to wait to find out," said Jack. "We have his address, we'll arrest him right away, and we'll send you home with a couple officers for protection."

"Is that enough?" asked Will. He was never one to admit he needed protecting, but it wasn't just him now. And he knew if something happened to him there wouldn't be someone else willing to take Dacey. She'd be shipped off to some orphanage, possibly found by Hannibal.

"We've got this, Will," Jack rested his forearms on his desk, black suit sleeves mirrored on the glossy surface. "He has no way of knowing we're this close to catching him."

"What if it isn't him, Jack?" asked Will. "What if this is the wrong lead?"

"I forgot to mention!" said Jimmy, "We pulled a textbook perfect fingerprint off the box and Matthew Lehnsherr is definitely our man."

"There you have it," said Jack. "Go home with your baby, Will. We'll get the warrant and have this wrapped up by tonight."

* * *

The officer's gloved fist pounded on the wooden door. Jack's neck was healing nicely, but he still had another officer do his shouting for him.

"MATTHEW LEHNSHERR. THIS IS THE POLICE. COME OUT NOW WITH YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD."

The lights in the modest house were off. The windows were dirty and cloudy, the door was peeling paint of a sickly green color. A nicely groomed long-haired cat sat on a window sill, tail flicking lazily as it watched the police with large, judgmental eyes. If anything else or anyone moved inside, they couldn't see it.

"MATTHEW LEHNSHERR. WE HAVE A WARRANT FOR YOUR ARREST. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD."

A couple neighbors poked their heads out before quickly hopping back inside and locking their doors, feeling frightened and a little bit justified. They'd always known that Matthew was an odd one.

"MATTHEW LEHNSHERR. IF YOU DO NOT OPEN YOUR DOOR WE WILL BE FORCED TO BREAK IT DOWN."

The officer looked back at Jack. Jack gave the go ahead. A booted foot connected with the door. It splintered open and four officers stalked in, guns with flashlights at the ready.

Into an empty house. The couch had obviously been used as a bed, instead of the perfectly made bed in the bedroom, which was covered in orange cat fur. Framed pictures of domestic and wild animals covered every wall and table.

Matthew Lehnsherr wasn't home.

* * *

Will pulled back the curtain to glance out his window for perhaps the, oh, billionth time. His gun was on the small table where he used to keep his lures because he really didn't trust the two police officers in the car outside. Every time he looked they seemed to be drinking coffee or yawning. Night was falling rapidly, the sky a wash from orange to purple to indigo.

Dacey was laying on a blanket in the floor happily playing with her little bare feet. _Frozen_ was on in the background with the volume muted.

The phone rang and broke the tension-filled silence. That was probably the fastest he'd ever answered the phone.

"Yes?"

"Watch your back, Will. Lehnsherr wasn't home. We're sending another pair of officers to your house." Jack hang up.

Will checked to make sure the safety on his gun was off and set it back on the table. He picked Dacey up and bounced her around the room, making sure the curtains were shut, as much to calm and distract himself as anything else. The dogs seemed to absorb his nervous energy and refused to lay down, but paced around too.

"It'll be okay, Dace. We'll be fine." He'd never been this nervous about something before. It must have been the small life that was literally in his arms. He continued his pacing until the baby was asleep and his own eyes were drooping.

There was a pounding on the porch, the door crashed in, and a man holding an odd looking gun stepped inside.

Will crushed Dacey protectively against his chest and turned to the side. He tried to reach for his gun but the man raised his.

"Don't even try it."

Will froze. This wasn't happening. It was a nightmare, hallucinations, it had to be something besides reality.

"I'm sorry," Lehnsherr said.

Will cocked his head. "You're sorry?"

"I'm sorry that I'm doing this." He may have said that, but his voice and hand were steady.

"That seems pretty easy to solve," said Will, "don't do this." Where were those officers?

Lehnsherr sucked a breath in through his teeth. "If I could avoid this, I would, believe me. I won't hurt your cub, don't worry."

Will stood in stunned silence for a moment before he realized by 'cub' he meant Dacey. Maybe he had more wrong with him than they thought. "Why do you call her a cub?" It was an obvious stall tactic, but hopefully not obvious enough for Lehnsherr.

"Because, she hasn't contracted the disease that is humanity yet." His voice was smooth, with a poetic lilt that usually accompanied self righteousness.

"You're saying she's not human?"

"I'm saying," his said louder, "that all she cares about right now is food and warmth and protection. That's all any animal wants. Humans are the ones who ruin everything!" He was shouting outright now. "We kill forests, we pollute everything we touch. When is everyone going to realize humans are the lesser species?"

He must have killed the officers in the car, Will realized. If the psycho kicking in the door hadn't alerted them, the yelling would have. He hated being this helpless. If he were by himself he would have jumped for his gun, jumped for the man, fought him, thrown something, but he did none of that. He did nothing that could risk Dacey.

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way," said Will, "because I'm following you, but if you think humans are so horrible, why don't you kill yourself?"

Lehnsherr nodded, "I'm going to get there, but I have to do my job on earth first. I am sorry you're in my way, but I can't let you stop me." He aimed his strange gun at Will's neck. That must be made to shoot the euthanasia drug, Will realized. "Now, if you'll put the cub down-"

"Where did you get my hair?" It was out before he time to think about it, but hey, it worked.

Lehnsherr seemed taken aback, but when he recovered he simply said, "Some woman I found who writes about you on the internet. Freddie Something. It doesn't matter. Put the baby down."

"Wait," Will said, hands tightening around Dacey. He really felt like he should've been more surprised then he was. He didn't know Freddie Lounds would go so far as to help someone try to kill him. "what exactly are you planning on accomplishing by killing me?"

Lehnsherr shook his head. "I've wasted enough words on you. It would be _inhumane_ to prolong this any further."

He took his aim.

Will ducked his head and turned, trying to shield Dacey.

Lehnsherr fired.

Will dropped. A line of fire seared across the top of his shoulder. He landed on his shoulder. Pain flared in a spasm down his back. Had he been injected? Was he merely grazed? Dacey awoke and began screaming at the top of her lungs. With his good arm, Will hugged her close and looked back at the door. Lehnsherr was aiming again.

He fired into the floor next to Will's chest. His aim was off. Lehnsherr was being dragged out on the porch. Will heard the sound of fists on flesh.

He stood. He checked to make sure Dacey was uninjured and tried to soothe her crying but the barking dogs weren't helping. He thought for half a second about whether to leave Dacey inside, unprotected, or take her outside where it was more dangerous but he could keep her close. He grabbed his gun and headed outside.

They weren't on the porch anymore, but wrestling in the snow and grass.

As Will had expected, the door to the cop car parked in the driveway was hanging open and blood was splattered over the windows. A strange car was parked, barely visible, down the road.

Lehnsherr still had his gun, but the man on top of him held his arm out, weapon pointed away. Will saw blood glint black on Lehnsherr's cheek and jaw and forehead.

It was pitch black outside, aside from the light reflected by the snow, but Will would recognize him anywhere, in any lighting or weather. Hannibal. Will watched him pull his fist back and slam it into Lehnsherr's face over and over. Hannibal's face was hard and unforgiving. His eyes caught the little light there was in the night and he looked like a wild animal with blood coating his knuckles.

A wild animal who was beating the man who'd almost killed them. Who'd been hanging around under Will's nose while he thought he'd left the country.

Lehnsherr ripped his arm free from Hannibal, slammed his gun into his temple and shoved him off. He rose to his knees and fired again before Will could get his gun up. Will dropped his gun as the projectile ripped through the side of his arm, he fell to his knees. Dacey cried. Snow melted where his blood dripped. Cold seeped into his pants, but he was sweating. He forced himself to grip his gun through the pain in his arm. He spared a glance to his arm. There was no telling how much, if any, Pentobarbital was in him. He kept the baby steady with his one good arm as he stood, her wails fading into the background.

He watched, frozen, as Hannibal rose behind Lehnsherr, gripped his head with two broad, strong hands and twisted. Cracking bones were the only sounds. Dacey even whimpered quietly.

Hannibal watched Will. No, Will realized his eyes were focused on Dacey. Hannibal took a step forward. He stopped when Will raised his gun.

"You would kill me, Will?" he asked. His accent was thicker through his panting, breath fogging in front of his flushed face. "After I saved your life?"

"You weren't protecting me."

"She deserves to be with her father." Hannibal took a step closer, then another when Will didn't shoot.

Will fought not to shiver. Dacey didn't have her coat. "I would agree," he wheezed. "If her father was anyone but you."

Hannibal physically looked hurt. "You can't care for her properly."

"This isn't a debate, Hannibal. I thought you left."

"If I'd left you would be dead." Hannibal came closer, they were less than fifteen feet apart. Will could see where strands of his hair were stuck to the blood on his temple.

"Hannibal, If you don't go..."

"You'll kill me? You've never been able to do it before."

And Will couldn't do it now. He knew he couldn't, Hannibal knew it. But Hannibal wasn't getting his daughter.

So he lowered his aim and fired. Hannibal collapsed, grunting, blood spurting from his thigh. The ground under his feet felt like it was swaying. He didn't know if it was the drug or the sensation of shooting someone. The gunshot inspired Dacey to start crying again.

"I'm not going to kill you Hannibal. But you can't have her."

Hannibal's eyes were dark and murderous. The only thing he wanted in the world was in front of him, being taken away. But Will couldn't feel bad about what he was doing. Not after what Hannibal had done to Abigail, to all of them.

So he walked across his porch, stopped in the doorway, he placed a hand on the door frame to steady himself. He felt like he was falling. The edges of his vision blurred. Dacey's cries sounded far off. He turned and said, "I'm calling the police. Make sure you're gone." And then, because even against everything else he was feeling, he did feel a little bad seeing the pain in Hannibal's eyes, he could imagine how he'd feel if someone took Dacey from him, he said, "Her name is Dacey." And he shut the door.

* * *

**Never fear, my people, Hannibal isn't the type to stay away from what he wants, but I'm sure you knew that. ;) Reviews make me happy! Like sugar high happy.**


	14. Chapter 14

**So, it occurred to me that if I was kidnapped or something none of you would ever have a clue because it takes me so long to update. (I should stop hiking in the woods with people I just met.) Sorry about the wait, by the way. **

**Happy reading!**

* * *

Will stumbled across the room to the phone. The room tilted in and out of focus as he collapsed next to the table. He laid Dacey gently on the ground and reached up for his phone. Will fumbled through the contacts, leaving streaks from the blood trailing down his arm and hand on the screen, until he found Jack.

"Will? Is everything alright?"

Will's tongue was heavy in his mouth, he couldn't form, or even recall the words needed to tell Jack to send help. Either his neck was getting weaker or his head heavier, but his forehead rested against the floorboards and he couldn't move it. He let his hand holding the phone fall near Dacey, who was screaming and crying.

"Hold on Will! We're on our way."

* * *

The first sensation to come to him was the heat, unbearable and sticky. But he was accustomed to the feeling of soaked sheets entwined with his legs and plastered to his chest. Next was the all too familiar beeping, and Will knew where he was immediately.

The beeping sped with his heart rate as he opened his eyes and realized Dacey wasn't with him. His throat was too dry to produce a voice, so he frantically pressed the nurse's button until a frenzied looking, scrawny man in blue scrubs ran in.

One look at him and Will knew he was new to the job. For starters he froze and just stared at him before asking _Will_ what was wrong instead of checking the machines first.

"Where..." Will struggled to breathe the words out, "Where's my..."

The nurse finally got his act together enough to pour a small amount of coolish water into a styrofoam cup and help Will sip it.

"Where's my baby?" Will's eyes were already drooping again. If he wanted to find out where Dacey was before he passed out again...

"Baby? What baby?"

Will's heart sunk as the beeping sped up again. No, he'd shot Hannibal in the leg, he couldn't have gotten Dacey before the police showed up.

"I'll go ask the cops you came with..."

But Will was already deafened as the many medications pulled him under.

* * *

The next time Will awoke he felt distinctly clearer. When he opened his eyes and saw Dacey. She was perfect. Unharmed, drinking healthily from a bottle, and clutching her stuffed octopus. A relief filled his lungs and mind so strongly he didn't notice the man holding her at first.

"She's very well behaved for a two-month-old, I think," said Dr. Frederick Chilton.

Will sighed. "What are you doing here Frederick?"

Frederick shrugged. "I'm just getting to know your adopted daughter a little better."

Will weakly reached out an arm for her. He gasped, it was the arm with the bullet wound. Pain also flared through his shoulders and he remembered he'd been shot with a poisoned bullet there too. Frederick laid her stomach-down on his chest. She cooed, and if Will wasn't wrong, she looked happier.

"She didn't like being separated from you," Frederick said. "The only way to calm her down was to bring her in here where she could see you."

"Why are you still here, Frederick?"

Frederick shrugged, he was failing to suppress a smirk. "Jack thought it would be best if I gave you the news myself."

What news could possibly be delivered best by _Frederick_?

"What?"

"Well the doctor believes that your injuries are minor enough for you to go home in a day or so. However, because you have an infant to take care of, and the damage done to your arm and shoulders, you should have someone move in with you for a few weeks to help take care of Dacey."

Will's eyes narrowed in suspicion and _oh please no_ denial. "No."

Frederick smirked, unrestrained and insolent. He was enjoying this. "Alright, I made that up. But the doctor did suggest someone check up on you for a few days. And I, so selflessly, volunteered."

"What happened Frederick? I thought you were terrified of Hannibal finding out that you knew _anything_ about his daughter. Now your throwing yourself in the line of fire?" Not that Will would particularly mind Frederick doing that.

Frederick scoffed. "Are you kidding me? I've spoken with Jack. They found a lot of Hannibal's blood in your front yard. You did that. Can you imagine the torture it will wreak in Hannibal's mind that he can't be with his child while she grows up calling me Uncle Frederick?"

"She's not going to call you anything," Will sneered.

"We'll see."

* * *

Will had just finished changing into his jeans and plain t-shirt to go back home. It was slower going with one arm bandaged in a sling but he managed. A nurse had changed and bathed Dacey (While Will could get used to having that done for him he was more than ready to go back home). She was asleep in her carrier, ready to go to the car.

His shoulders still ached. His arm had the most damage done, a deep graze, but still only a graze with slight muscle damage; as he'd only been grazed just a mild amount of the euthanize drug had entered his system. He would be shaky and weaker for a few days but it would wear off soon enough.

Will sensed the stern presence hovering in his door frame. He dutifully ignored it until he was forced to turn around to leave.

"When were you going to tell us Hannibal was there?" Jack asked.

"I figured you'd know when you saw Lehnsherr's broken neck and all the blood that wasn't his."

"Why did you not tell us?"

"I shot him. He could be dead in the woods for all I know."

"We combed the woods," Jack stated. "He wasn't there."

Will hadn't believed he would be.

"You might have just made him angry and vengeful," said Jack.

"He was already angry and vengeful."

"You don't sound concerned, Will. Aren't you worried he'll kill you next time?"

Will met Jack's eyes. "He won't. Hannibal's smart enough to know he can't care for a baby and be inconspicuous. As long as I'm caring for his daughter, I'm under his protection."

Jack seemed to tenuously believe what Will said, however Will knew it was an outright lie. He wanted Jack to leave him and Dacey be, but he also knew if Hannibal saw an opportunity to get his child, he would take it. Whatever the cost to Will Graham.

* * *

**So I think we'll have a short chapter next of Frederick trying to be 'Uncle Frederick' (good luck with that buddy) and then a time jump. I eagerly await inspiration.**


	15. Chapter 15

**So this is a pretty quick update yeah? I don't really like this chapter but I wanted to get it out of the way so we can get back to more interesting things. ;)**

* * *

Will was out the doors and facing the parking lot before he realized he didn't even have a car there. He had a moment of deja vu to when he first left the hospital with Dacey in a staff member's van.

The parking lot was dim and gray, all color leached away by evening and winter and the light poles started to turn on.

His cheeks stung. It was cold enough to snow though no flakes fell.

A small red car with foggy yellow headlights pulled up in front of him. Frederick Chilton rolled down the window. "Need a ride?"

Will closed his eyes and sighed. His grip tightened on the handle of Dacey's carrier. He actually hated the sight of Frederick, knowing he'd been waiting in the parking lot, watching for them to come out. But he needed a ride.

* * *

Will let the screen door slam shut behind him but didn't lock it. He'd have to get the dogs he let out in a minute. He'd let Frederick know in no uncertain terms that he was to leave the second Will shut the car door. Frederick did so without the slightest complaint or falter of smirk, which let Will know he'd be back to harass them soon enough.

Someone had fed and watered the dogs while he was gone. He didn't know who, but he doubted Alana would've done it like she used to.

It was difficult maneuvering with one good arm, but he safely transferred Dacey from her carrier to the crib. She squirmed a bit, but didn't awake. He placed her octopus beside her.

He was dizzy, the edges of his visions wavering. He wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or leftover drugs, but he needed sleep. He washed off as best he could, brought the dogs back in, checked on Dacey one last time, then finally allowed himself to pass out for the night.

* * *

The morning brought with it a pattern Will was more used to. Wake up to the crying baby. Feed and change her. Feed and let the dogs out. Make breakfast for himself. All of this was made considerably longer and more difficult by having only one good arm, but he managed.

The pattern fell apart around ten with a knock at his door.

Frederick held a grocery store bag and an obnoxious smile. His eyes examined the inside of Will's home from the porch, taking in the cluttered desk, mismatched furniture, the carpet of dogs all sizes and colors.

"I thought you might be able to use these." He dropped the bag on the coffee table and welcomed himself inside.

Will held Dacey securely on his hip as he peered inside the bag. It was full of small jars of various flavors of baby food. He knew Frederick's intentions had nothing to do with the welfare of Dacey, but still, Will appreciated the gesture. Except...

"She can't eat any of this yet, Frederick."

Frederick waved his hand. "It's got a long expiration date."

So Frederick had his nose firmly stuck in Will's business for an hour. He aimlessly explored the house, held Dacey, only after Will's arm was too sore to support her, until she needed a diaper change, put the baby food in the cabinet, tried to play blocks with Dacey despite the fact that she's _two months old_, minimally swept the kitchen, and sneered when he saw he had dog fur covering his overly expensive pants. Will would've kicked him out much sooner, but, despite the fact that everything about Frederick was _insufferable_, he was significantly weaker from the Pentobarbital and it _was_ nice having someone clean up for him.

As he left he bid a very fond farewell, and actually called himself _Uncle Frederick_, to Dacey who ignored him as she was fascinated with the collar of Will's shirt.

Will flopped back on the couch, with Dacey settled in her usual spot on her stomach on his chest. "He's finally gone. Next time I'm not letting him in."

Dacey's eyes were wide and blue. She patted his face and tried to grab fistfuls of his beard.

Will hadn't shaved in a couple weeks and his usual stubble was no longer stubble. In fact, he liked his short beard. He winced when Dacey yanked it. So maybe she didn't approve.

"Don't judge my hair, you barely have any." He played with her short, dark hair and pushed it into a tiny mohawk. He chuckled. "This suits you."

Then he had an idea.

* * *

The next day brough Frederick again, but Will was ready. Will opened the door and thrust a list into Frederick's hands. "I'm glad you could make it today." Then Will was back on the couch with the baby, groggy and slightly less weakened than yesterday.

Frederick glanced over the list.

_Clean the windows_

_Wash the dishes_

_Wash the dogs_

_Clean out the fridge_

Frederick wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but he'd learned from the crib incident. Will Graham would not play him this time. There were different ways of using Hannibal's child to his benefit.

He pulled out his phone to silently snap a few pictures of the messy house, as well as a couple of the baby's room, and one of Will, not paying attention with his eyes closed, on the couch with Dacey.

"Actually Will, I'm afraid something's come up at my hospital," Frederick lied smoothly, "and I won't be able to finish your list." He excused himself from the small home.

Will smiled, glad his plan to get rid of Frederick Chilton had worked.

Chilton smiled. He'd keep the pictures to himself, for now. They'd be worth more later.

* * *

**Ugh. Someone just always has to have an ulterior motive huh? Time jump time! Please review please? I may not always respond but know that I read them over and over and squee. :D**


	16. Chapter 16

**Yo. I haven't abandoned this story. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, but ever since I started college my free time no longer exists. But I'm on spring break and had time to make an update! I will finish this story. I'll try to update again soon, but I can't make any promises until summer.**

In the past, Will Graham had hated the mall. He'd hated anything with crowds of people that produced an unholy amount of noise. But since the small three-year-old girl that was clinging to his hand as they circulated through the stores came into his life, he found himself hating things less and less. He thought about Hannibal less and less. There had been no reported sightings of the infamous cannibal in over two years. Will didn't think he was dead, he simply didn't think of him.

Will had to keep a tight, but gentle, grip on Dacey's hand or risk her running off and getting lost. The small girl's speech was developing quickly and she sure used it. She talked constantly. Half the time no one could make sense of her fragile sentences, but it was adorable. He just agreed with whatever childish imaginations she shared with him. Will felt his heart swell every time she called 'Daddy!' for his attention. It never got old. He was so pleased that she was developing normally (at least according to Google). He was far gone from any orthodox parent, but Dacey was the happiest child he knew, so it didn't matter.

Dacey was wearing a bright blue dress (Will had quickly learned dresses were the easiest thing to fit a fidgety child into) with her silky dark hair pulled into a ponytail and carrying her stuffed octopus. She always had that toy with her. Will wore his usual garb of flannel and dark colors. His hair was as wild as ever, but his beard was neat and trim.

He let Dacey drag him into a toy store and listened to her gleeful shrieks of 'Look this! Look this! Look this!' She didn't ask for any of it, she just wanted to make sure he saw it all.

"Okay kid," Will said as he led her into the next store, a book store,"we'll go to the food court and get something to eat after this. How does that sound?"

Dacey squeaked happily and jumped at the thought of food.

The front corner of the store was devoted to children. It had a couple beanbag chairs as well as large stuffed animals for kids to sit on as they read, or flip through the pictures of, the books that occupied half a dozen shelves. Opposite the shelves was the window wall that peeked out into rest of the mall. Will told Dacey she could pick out two books for him to read to her and went deeper into the store to find something for himself.

Dacey studied the shelves thoughtfully, her bottom lip sticking out in a concentrated pout. She wanted bright colors! And something big so it took her daddy longer to read!

She pulled out a big one with a bright blue cover. She couldn't read it herself, but it was called _The Book of Knights._ She sat in a green beanbag chair and began flipping through the pages. She stopped, fixated, on an illustration of a huge, fire breathing dragon.

She didn't notice the man that stopped outside the window.

Will, who was in the back corner of the store, barely visible from the window, didn't notice either.

The man slipped into the store without being noticed by the single cashier and crouched in front of the small girl. Dacey looked up with wide, impossibly blue eyes. Bluer even than her mother's, thought Hannibal.

"Hello, little one," he whispered in his accented voice.

Dacey turned the book around so he could see the picture of the dragon.

"Are you scared of dragons?" he asked.

Dacey shook her head.

"Of course you aren't. You're very brave I bet?"

The girl nodded vigorously. "I felled and hurt knee. Daddy said I tough as NAILS and I no cry!"

Hannibal momentarily scowled at the word _daddy_ before placing a finger to his lips to signal quiet. He was surprised when Dacey quietly instantly and repeated the gesture. _Smart child_, thought Hannibal.

"Would you like some ice cream?" he asked.

"Daddy say I no go with stranger."

"But I'm not a stranger. We've been sitting and talking, see? You know me."

Dacey really wanted ice cream.

Hannibal took Dacey's tiny hand and silently led her out the store.

There was a Baskin Robins in the food court. Hannibal picked the little girl up and held her in his arms as they waited in line. No one gave a second glance to the suited man holding his daughter.

"Which flavor do you want, Dacey?" He remembered her name from when Will had told him before leaving him to die. He didn't know anything about his own child and that killed him, so he held tight to the one fact he did know and never forgot it.

"Chocy!"

"Do you have a favorite color?"

"All them," she mumbled fidgeting with her octopus.

Hannibal chuckled, bouncing the girl in his arms lightly.

"Where daddy?" she asked.

"I don't know where Will is."

"Who Will?"

It was their turn in line.

Will frantically searched the mall. "Dacey!" he shouted, "Dacey!" He stopped anyone and everyone, asking if they'd seen a little girl in a blue dress with a toy octopus. He finally caught the attention of a security guard who assured Will the find her before radioing the information to the other security officers across the mall.

He couldn't believe he'd lost her. Dacey had never run off before, not like this. Once, Will thought he'd lost her in a grocery store, but she was just in the next aisle over looked at the cereal boxes. Did she just get bored in the book store and walk out? Or did somebody take her? Will was terrified beyond imagining. Could _he_ be back? That little girl had come to mean so much to him. Will loved her like she was his own daughter. She _was_ his daughter. Hannibal could not have her.

Hannibal ordered a cone with two scoops of chocolate. He'd barely handed it to the child before he heard the shouting.

"Dacey! Dacey!"

"Daddy!" the little girl shrieked happily.

Hannibal ducked them into the nearest store, some sportswear place.

He set the little girl down. "You need to go to your... dad. Okay?"

Dacey nodded while licking her ice cream.

"I'll see you again." It killed Hannibal a little further inside to let her go back to Will, but he couldn't take his daughter with him yet. It wasn't the right time.

"Okay!"

He gave her a gentle nudge out the door and watched, heartbroken, as his child ran off, dripping ice cream. At least Will took good care of her.

Hannibal watched through the glass windows of the sportswear store as Will spotted Dacey and ran to her.

Will picked the little girl up and held her tight. "Daddy!" she shouted happily. Relief flooded him, as he sank to his knees in the middle of the crowded mall. The security guard radioed the others to let them know the missing girl was found.

Will kept Dacey in the bear hug. She wasn't kidnapped. _He_ didn't have her. He pulled back when he felt something cold and wet on his shoulder.

"Dacey, where did you get the ice cream?"

"Nice man got for me."

That black pit of fear opened in Will again. "What nice man?"

"That came in store."

"A nice man came in the book store and took you to get ice cream?"

Dacey nodded and continued licking.

"Did he do anything else? Did he say anything?" The security guard was listening intently as Will asked the questions.

"Say go back to Daddy."

Will stood and turned to the security guard. He whispered. He didn't want Dacey to ever hear this name. "I have reason to believe Hannibal Lecter is in this mall."

The wide-eyed security guard got his radio back out, but Hannibal was already gone.

Will took Dacey home to make food there.


End file.
